“Would you like to join us?” he asks.
I glance over his shoulder at the blonde, finding her ignoring the hot dude. My mouth contorts into a grimace, which isn’t hard as my skin is trying to crawl off my bones to escape his touch. “No, thank you. I’m a little possessive over my partners. I don’t share well.”
He leans close to my ear, his warm breath teasing my flesh and sending goosebumps down my arm. A physiological response which I’m certain he misinterprets for pleasure. My stomach twists, my body already craving a shower.
“And if I get rid of her?”
Sinker.
Chapter Seven
Eleanor
Beauty is skin deep.
Irarely socialize in large groups, preferring cozy nights with movies, video games, and takeout. I have, however, mastered mimicking those around me to fit in, even if it leaves me feeling exhausted. I can look like I belong and act like I’ve been there a million times with barely any information.
Gail has a few choice things to say about that skill. Something about never showing my true self to the world and hiding behind fake personalities and false backstories. Apparently it’s called masking, but why would I show who I am when it invites vulnerability and pain? Nobody wants the real Eleanor. She’s for me and me alone.
Cloud is everything I expected and nothing I have experienced. It is dark, moody, and reeks of poor decisions and sin. It’s a playground for dark and depraved minds. Cloud is neither a sex club nor a strip joint, yet it’s full of shadowy corners, tinkling laughter, deep moans, and the sound of rustling fabric. A sleek bar spans one wall, manned by severalclassily dressed staff in a black and red uniform. Both men and women are on the payroll, which surprises me. What happened to sisterhood? I guess everyone has their price.
Black and red swaths of gauzy fabric cover the rest of the room, concealing velvet couches surrounding low tables lit with candles. It creates a false impression of romance when the men who frequent here are anything but Romeos.
Christopher’s hand sits on the dip of my spine, above my ass, his heated skin making mine break out in a cold sweat. I resist the urge to turn around and break his arm.Long game, Ellie. Keep your goals in sight. Find your target. Sink deeper into their world. They will never see you coming.
Speaking of deeper. I need to do something.
“Restroom?” I ask Christopher as we take the set of stairs to the middle floor.
His gaze flares.No, idiot, I don’t mean for us.He jerks his head to the left. “Down there. Last door on your left. Do you want a drink?”
My lips quirk. “I’ll have champagne, thanks.” As if I’m going to drink anything he orders.
“I’ll be over in that booth.”
He points at an opulent little nook. Wonderful. I’ll be up close and personal with this demon. Fighting to keep my face neutral, I nod in agreement before disappearing down the hallway. I glance over my shoulder to find Christopher watching me with his arms folded. I try to give offI need to peevibes, notfuck me in the bathroomones.
I push open the door, finding a classy restroom with a single toilet, small couch, and vanity with everything one might need to freshen up—perfume, brand new makeup, condoms… okay then. I lock the door behind me and lean my back against it with a sigh.
“Keep it together,” I mutter to myself before shoving off the door and doing a sweep in the small room, finding no obvious cameras. Doesn’t mean there aren’t any. But I’ve already spent one minute in here, and the clock is ticking. Christopher doesn’t strike me as a patient man.
I pull my phone out of my clutch and hit the app, switching the button to on. I stare at the pulsing dot signaling that it’s active and being received.Come on, come on.
Thirty seconds later, my phone lights up. Damn, that man is fast.
I swipe, accepting the call. “Fox,” I greet.
“Why did your tracking app light up my screen, Ghost?”
“Because I turned it on.”
“I didn’t even realize you still had this on your phone.”
“I don’t. The device is buried beneath my skin. Phones can be discarded, wiped, or trashed.”
He sighs, and I can picture his exasperated expression. “What’s happening?”
“I have a private matter I’m attending to.” Silence fills the line. “Fox?”
